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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008892">Doubling Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_isnt_my_darkest_fuckin_secret/pseuds/this_isnt_my_darkest_fuckin_secret'>this_isnt_my_darkest_fuckin_secret</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comforting, Cuddles, M/M, im just projecting, its non-sexual btw, we down bedrock in this bitch, you get it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_isnt_my_darkest_fuckin_secret/pseuds/this_isnt_my_darkest_fuckin_secret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff"><p>short and shit. comment, i crave the agony of being known</p></div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave Strider/Dave Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Doubling Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dave hated sleeping on the meteor.</p>
<p>The bed in his room was fine, it wasn’t that. He had a large, fairly comfortable double mattress and plain pillows; simple furniture that Rose had made for them both after she had made exactly one attempt to sleep in sopor with Kanaya. </p>
<p>He turned over in bed, trying to tuck the covers more tightly under himself like a cocoon. ‘𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦,’ he thought to himself grumpily, '𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘹'. John had laughed when he complained about how cold everything was – typical Washingtonian, thinks he’s the reigning lord of coldness, the fucking president’s top minister for freezing misery, blah blah...</p>
<p>Dave rubbed his hands together, muttering to himself in that tone he only reserves for when he thinks he is completely alone. On the meteor, the feeling of being alone had honestly been a little new to him.<br/>
Sometimes the back of his neck would still prickle with the phantom feeling of lifeless puppet eyes on him. For a few moments he tried to think back to the familiar heat of Texas, but...</p>
<p>He was back there, sweating, scared, on the burning tarmac of the rooftop, air melting, and the flash of steel was coming at his face and – </p>
<p>Dave smacked himself, a bit hard, but at least he snapped out of it. He turned over again, the little body heat he’d earned himself seeming to evaporate too fast. He tried to suppress another unpleasant shiver, but only made it worse.</p>
<p>'𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬’𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘦..’</p>
<p>*knock knock*</p>
<p>He thought he had imagined hearing a knock on the door, for a moment, until there it was again. He reached for his sunglasses, sitting up. Who the fuck would be here this late?</p>
<p>“Hello?” he called out a little groggily.<br/>
No response. He paused a few more seconds.</p>
<p>“Yo, I said who is it?”</p>
<p>“𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬?”</p>
<p>...Fuck. Fucking, fuck... shit. Dave recognised that voice, obviously. It’s kind of impossible not to. He really, really didn’t want to get involved in anything stupid and dangerous right now, though - in the middle of the fucking night, when he’d been trying to sleep for hours. He wasn’t really in a funny escapading mood.</p>
<p>Reluctantly, he opened the door to an identical pair of shades on an identical face, wearing an identically blank expression.</p>
<p>The Dave at the door was wearing a huge white bathrobe, over slacks and a large sweater that Dave didn’t recognise. He was looking straight back at his other self, hands in his pockets, acting as if he wasn’t at all in an incredibly bizarre situation. </p>
<p>“The fuck are you doing here, man? I’m not going anywhere, I’m fucking tired, I’m not gonna-”</p>
<p>“𝘔𝘢𝘯, 𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘱.”</p>
<p>The other Dave walked into his room with the trademark nonchalance of any Strider – nobody else in the world would’ve noticed something off except himself. Which of course, he did; maybe that was why he just sort of let him walk in, sit on his bed. He watched him run a hand through his hair, still kind of unsure what to say. In the end he didn’t have to – the other guy spoke first.</p>
<p>“𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘐... 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘤𝘰𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵  𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐’𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘺 –”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first Dave cut him off, having come to a fairly obvious (and rather sad) conclusion.</p>
<p>“Idea? ... We’re not... We aren’t seriously that lame, are we? I was going to...?”</p>
<p>“𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘥𝘶𝘥𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳."</p>
<p>The other Dave spoke with the kind of cool tone that said he was trying to look like this was no big deal, but that was quite the herculean task. Dave could feel his own cheeks burning now with how humiliating this was, even in front of himself. </p>
<p>“I don’t know what you mean.”</p>
<p>His voice was barely above a whisper. That stupid Cool act, all but broken, tinged now with something small, and scared. Dave had closed his eyes behind the shades when his mind had eventually put together what the other him meant – he made no move to pull back when he heard the bed move, and the other Dave got up. He heard him slowly walk across the room, and flick the lights off.</p>
<p>A moment later, he couldn’t help himself tense up at the feeling of his own arms wrapping him tightly in a hug. Neither spoke another word.  The other Dave buried his face into Dave’s shoulder, and he just let himself be held for a few seconds, the warmth of the embrace only worsening the goose-bumps on his legs. He hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until he needed to gasp quietly for air. </p>
<p>The other Dave was, in comparison, far less dejected about the whole business; at least, that seemed true on the surface. He pulled Dave back into bed and under the covers, and pressed the two of them together, all pale limbs and determined avoidance of eye contact. Two pairs of shades were tossed carelessly on the nightstand besides them.</p>
<p>Dave’s head was still reeling from all of this. He had almost completely passed over the fact the other Dave said that he had had sex with himself, and that that had lead to fucking suicides. He had to wonder at what point this other Dave had decided that he needed cuddling, like a scared puppy or something. The thought of his friends ever finding out about this was too much to fucking imagine. He felt so unbelievably pathetic, feeling the other Dave’s hand shift over his back to wrap the covers more tightly around the two of them. </p>
<p>The worst part was how unashamed the other Dave was acting in comparison. He had one hand like a seatbelt across the small of Dave’s back, keeping their stomachs pressed together, and the other was fucking stroking down his back, dragging those long fingers down his own skin as if it was something precious.</p>
<p>“This is...” he muttered to the other Dave, the shame in his voice now completely earnest. </p>
<p>“𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵,” was the reply, close enough to his ear that it made him shiver.</p>
<p>“𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.”</p>
<p>They both knew that was bullshit. The other Dave couldn’t possibly have missed how his heart was thumping in his chest. Even with the knowledge that it was literally only himself in this situation, something in the back of Dave’s mind kept whispering that this was too un-Striderly, too... weak.</p>
<p>The other Dave’s left hand ended up on the back of Dave’s neck, and was now rubbing there, slow and thoughtful. '𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘴,’ he thought. </p>
<p>The room hummed with a quiet ambience. He hadn’t expected a future self who was so comfortable with all this touchy feely stuff, but he didn’t really want to think too hard about that; not right now. The slow, rhythmic rubbing at his neck, and the tight embrace of the familiar body, surrounding him with warmth... The affection, as much as he hated to think of it as that, was filling him with a woozy sort of calm now. That little voice in his head was still whining, but it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. </p>
<p>Dave doesn’t remember falling asleep. Only that it was the best he’d had in a while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short and shit. comment, i crave the agony of being known</p></blockquote></div></div>
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